Better Way to Be

Better Way to Be

                Picking up from last week, this post is a further explanation of the ‘turtles all around’ theory.  We have described how the theory of ‘turtles all the way down’ might be depicted: an infinitely descending tower of ever larger turtles stacked on top of each other. This view is quite limited and thus not sufficiently satisfying to a practicing philosopher. We can do better.

                To get a picture of this ‘turtles all around’ theory, imagine a mountain range. Instead of mountains composed of rocks and minerals, these mountains of this fourth-dimensional plane (presumably where we’d find the ‘tower of turtles’) are made up of millions upon millions of turtles. Huge expanses of valleys and hills. Each turtle has a shell and thus an earth, if you will, mounted on top. In this realm of reptilian dominance, the only goal is to reach the apex of a mountain: to become top turtle.

                This goal is the same for all turtles. With that in mind, one must visualize how the hierarchy of turtles is decided. For the sake of relative simplicity, we’ll go with this: the turtle who is able to successfully confront all obstacles and reach the peak becomes a top turtle. Now for the next obvious question: what sort of obstacles does a turtle have to overcome in order to climb? The answer is quite complex. What type of obstacles do you face in your everyday life? What keeps you from climbing?

                You got it! We are all turtles. Have you reached the top?

Why Not All Around?

Why Not All Around?

            There once was a woman who, when posed with the question “What holds our world up? In other words, what does Earth sit upon?”, answered “What a silly question. A turtle of course.” In hopes of gaining some sense of enlightenment, the man then asks, “What do you suppose supports this turtle?” to which the woman replies “Don’t you know? It’s turtles all the way down.” The woman is completely satisfied with the answer she has given. The man is more or less content with this new philosophy he has received. They both get on with their lives.

            Now, being that we are all philosophers, it is not enough for us to simply ‘get on with our lives’. A philosophy has been produced. There must be another to experience a collision or an integration of some sort. In that case, let us cultivate this tract of thought and bask in what our labor begets.

            If there are turtles ‘all the way down’, why not ‘all around’? To expand upon this point, we must first fully comprehend this tower of turtles. At the top of this tower you have the upper-most turtle. The Earth, in this sense, is flat and sits upon the shell of this top turtle. Below this turtle is a bigger turtle with a shell big enough to support this top turtle. Below that turtle is one bigger still. The tower continues thus forever downward. Above this tower of turtles is a source of light from witch the Earth gets its solar energy- a sun. With that being said, one begins to wonder how the top turtle came to be the top turtle. For that matter, why is the fifty-third turtle the fifty-third and not the fifty-fifth? It gets a little hard to explain, this tower theory. There must be a better way for these turtles to be. There is.

            (Better Way to Be coming soon)

The Fellow Ant

            Growing up in rural Sweetwater Alabama, a lot of my time was spent outdoors. With living a life outdoors comes the knowledge of creepy critters and their ways of life. One learns to steer clear of the crawlies who bite or sting: hornets, wasps, bees. Ants.

            As one with an allergic reaction to ant bites, I’ve learned early on how to not simply hate ants, but to loathe them. Equipped with a magnifying glass and a heart of malice towards those six-legged parasites, I’d manipulate the sunrays into raging death-beams that vaporized carpenters and harvesters alike. I felt no sympathy towards these ants because I’m sure they felt no sympathy for me when my skin would swell and welt wherever one of those malicious marauders tasted my flesh. For years I was more or less content with the hate-hate relationship that I had cultivated with this species. I figured if I was going to continue getting bit, then I’d trample every hill, I’d dose every line, I’d press every exoskeleton. But one day, after a fierce battle with the ants, both sides suffering heavily, I had an epiphany. While rubbing in copious amounts of Goldbond on my flesh wounds, I realized that there was another way, a better way, to live than in constant confrontation with these picnic pillagers. Simply live and let live.

            When I go back and look at all the run-ins I had with this colony, I shamefully remember that I was always the one to first sound the trumpets of war. I had to really sit and think about it. Ants don’t know me. They don’t go out of there way to scale my slopes in search for a piece of uncovered skin to sink their pincers into. Every instance in which I was bitten, I first kicked a mound or displaced a vital rock. I was the impetus. Ever since this realization, I’ve become less malicious towards ants. Don’t get me wrong, whenever I see one indoors, I go crazy with haemolymph-lust and begin spraying left and right. I just no longer go out of my way to harm their civilizations.

            Now for the real question. What are magnifying glasses supposed to be used for?